


Kind of like urbandictionary. But with snark.

by openhearts



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Episode 1.12 Comparitive Religion, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:32:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4143051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/openhearts/pseuds/openhearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Note: That isn't what Jeff says. It is what he means, and it is also, fortunately, what Annie hears. The Jeff to Snark translation is: "You! Wunderkind! Feed me your brain knowledge.")</p><p> </p><p>Beta'd by Jenn/Crackers4Jenn (on LiveJournal) with html handholding by tempertemper (on LiveJournal)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kind of like urbandictionary. But with snark.

"Annie! Annie, wait up!"

Yep. Jeff Winger was calling frantically and hurrying through the hallways of Greendale Community College in hot pursuit of Annie Edison. Make that jogging. Jogging sounds less . . . ugh. Fine. Hurrying.

"Jeff? What's -"

"I need to cram for the Spanish final and I trust your knowledge and generosity more than anyone else. Please, please help me, and I promise I will be nice to you (mostly not in front of people, but still) and buy you dinner for your trouble."

(Note: That isn't what Jeff says. It is what he means, and it is also, fortunately, what Annie hears. The Jeff to Snark translation is: "You! Wunderkind! Feed me your brain knowledge.")

  
_

  
"So. Jewish, huh," Jeff asked lamely as he walked out of the library at seven o'clock at night. With Annie. Wait, what? Oh yeah, this happened. Jeff studied.

(The study session had gone . . . well it was studying, so he was kind of trying to forget it ever happened while still retaining the knowledge he'd picked up, but really it hadn't been as excruciating as he'd thought. Except for the flashcards. Those got pretty brutal. He ended up balling up a few sheets of blank paper from one of Annie's three(!) dedicated binders for Spanish 101 and throwing them at her when she got too shrill, which happened anywhere between three and twelve times over the evening depending on who you ask. By the way, if the person you ask is Jeff, and Annie is out of ear shot, it was actually about thirty seven times, but he didn't want to make her feel bad even though she started it by paper-balling him for his agnosticism which, by the way, is not harmful to anyone's ears unlike Annie's amplified possessed-hamster voice when he forgot the word for "pencil" the third time.)

"Yep. Jewish." "

Like, hardcore with yarmulkes and rooftop fiddlers?"

"Only on special occasions."

"Ah. Ssssooooo, I'm not gonna have to google for kosher restaurants or anything?"

Annie smiled indulgently. "No, you won't. I do have more studying to do tonight though, so . . . well it was nice of you to offer but you really don't have to-"

"Annie, I'm trying really hard here. You're the only one in our group of friends who can really bring out this unselfish side of me and while I'm not used to it, I see its value and if it means I get to spend more time with you, please, please say that's okay."

(Translation: "Shut it Hebrew National. If we don't do this now, you're going to store it in your guilt arsenal and I'm not about to give ammunition to North Korea.")

Annie stared up at Jeff for a second, caught between a smile and a slack-jawed expression of surprise and concern for his mental well-being. "O-oh," she started, the smile spreading quickly over her features. "Okay then. Well . . . goodnight."

Acutely aware of the awkwardness that befalls them when it comes time to part ways (he seriously still can't believe he patted her on the head), Jeff kind of smiled and laughed through his nose and nodded and half-waved before walking away as quickly as possible.

Studying and refusing to get out of a commitment in one night . . . seriously, WHAT? This finals shit was wrinkling his brain. Oh hell.

  
_

  
"Jeff! Jeff!" Annie Edison called as she hurried after Jeff Winger through the halls of Greendale Community College. All was slightly less wrong with the world.

"I heard you're fighting Mike today," she reported breathlessly as she hurried along by his elbow.

"Oh god, not you too. I already have to avoid Shirley like the plague. Alright," he sighed. He pulled her over into an empty classroom, stood her in front of him and crossed his arms. "Come on. You know you're dying to lecture me. Go ahead and get it over with." He closed his eyes and winced in preparation.

Annie cocked her head to one side and smiled. She patted Jeff on the arm and his eyes popped open.

"Good luck Jeff," she said simply, and turned on her heel. As she left she tossed over her shoulder, "Go for his right side. He pulled a muscle trying to jump down a staircase the other day."

Well that was unexpected.

Jeff looked after her with an expression that could only be described as impressed with an edge of relief.

  
_

  
Post-American Gladiators 101, Jeff stared dazedly into a bathroom mirror at the Rorschach test bruise spreading over his face. His favorite t-shirt was torn and he felt like he'd gotten trampled by a pack of cut-off-sweats-wearing drunk elephants. Still, he had to pull it together. He stood up straight and cracked his neck. When a stab of pain shot down his spine (goddamn this aging crap) and punched him in the gut from inside, he slumped back down and gave up. At least the hair still looked okay.

He knew for a fact that Annie would still be in the study room even though everybody else had left, because she always seemed to find a reason to leave last, puttering around with books or paper or something like that.

"I believe we need to talk about your inability to contain your unending well of glee back there," Jeff said from the doorway, startling the life out of Annie as she tried to negotiate her backpack onto her shoulders without making something hurt. Even more.

"Jeff!" she squeaked before wincing. She leaned her weight on her non-bleeding leg and fidgeted with the straps of her backpack. "What? I was just . . . well I was cheering on behalf of the group."

"Uh huh. C'mere," Jeff scoffed at her, laboriously hanging one arm out into thin air in her direction. "I need a crutch, and Pierce would probably pass on another important life lesson by kneeing me in the groin or something. Plus I don't know where he is, and I think I'm about to fall down."

Annie ran over and rested Jeff's arm over her shoulders before he leaned over into oblivion.

"Okay?" she asked.

"Yup."

They slowly started to limp toward the door. They paused in the exit from the library to the east parking lot and, you know what comes next right? Merry time of year, unlikely but beloved pairing, acknowledgement of possible romantic tension . . .  _doorway_?

Jeff looked down at Annie.

Annie looked up at Jeff.

No one walked by, interrupting the moment.

No really they didn't.

Completely uninterrupted.

As her eyes widened, and her lips parted . . .

 

 

 

 

 

"Jeff I think one of those tampons is coming out of your nostril."

"They're not  _tampons_ , I . . . did you just say tampons out loud? In a big girl voice?"

"I'm a girl! I'm  _allowed_  to say . . . tampon."  
 

"I'll let it slide since you're so conveniently crutch-sized. So, it's officially winter break, you've aced all your finals and sustained minor injuries in a melee . . . I think it's time for me to make good on that deal."

Annie blushed and glanced down at her disheveled clothes.

"Maybe now's not the best time though, we're still all . . . fighty."

"Why do I get the feeling you're trying to get out of this?"

"I'm not, I just . . . well I know you probably have other things you need to do and I-"

"Hey. I really actually want to hang out with you. Can I please do that? Because I really really want to."

(Translation: "Annie. If you keep making it hard to be nice to you I'm going to start being a douche bag again.")

Annie's mouth snapped shut.

"Now, we can go to my place because I actually have a home that is not on wheels or rented by the week now, and we will get cleaned up, and then find something to eat because goddammit it's Christmas and I'm going to act like a human."

  
_

  
On the drive Jeff actually felt kind of . . . nervous? No, that couldn't possibly be it. The nagging weirdness and strange adrenaline spike must have been just left over endorphins from the several bruised ribs. Or maybe the kidney shots. Jeff tapped his fingers on the wheel and tried not to glance at Annie out of the corner of his eye too much.

Annie, for her part, stared carefully ahead and picked at the zipper on her backpack. She thought about the change of clothes she'd grabbed from the box of emergency supplies in her trunk in the Greendale parking lot and hoped it would be appropriate for where ever they ended up eating. Because, oh yes, this was happening. Annie was in Jeff's car with Jeff, going to Jeff's apartment with Jeff and then Jeff was going to take Annie to a restaurant to eat (with Jeff.) JeffJeffJeffJeffityJeffJeff.

When they reached the apartment and Jeff excused himself to the restroom to take care of the nose-tampon situation (because, really, it's not a good look even for him.) Annie wandered wide-eyed around his living room.

It was all sleek furniture and some surprisingly good art and photography - Mark Rothko, Ansel Adams, and an Andy Warhol print of John Wayne. He had an extensive collection of DVDS and a much fuller bookshelf than she'd expected with a very respectable collection of Steinbeck. She was running a finger over the spine of his dog-eared copy of "Of Mice and Men" when Jeff cleared his throat from the hallway and she looked up sharply.

He hadn't gotten a good look at her before then. Annie's tights were ripped and her knee was bleeding, one sleeve of her sweater was torn and she had a scrape on her jaw and one on her cheek and it was really all Jeff could do to keep from burning a one-man warpath directly to goon number three and using his new-found fighting skills. With which to kill said goon. A lot. Painfully. Forever.

He nodded to her backpack sitting on the floor next to the couch.

"Got a first aid kit in there?"

Annie nodded and hurried over; thanking all that was good in the world that she had a task now.

"Sit," she instructed, pointing to a chair at his dining room table. She whipped the first aid kit out of her backpack and stood in front of him between his knees to dab delicately at the blood drying on his forehead.

"I'm really glad you didn't fail Spanish," she said softly when the silence interrupted only by a clock ticking got to be too much.

Jeff smiled at the floor. Well, really at Annie's legs, but it could seem like he was looking at the floor, so let's just say that. "Me too."

"A whole 'nother semester with Senor Chang," she emphasized. She tilted his chin up with one hand and very carefully blotted around his nose.

"Yep," he winced.

"Sorry," she said quickly and dropped a kiss on his cheek.

Everything froze.

She pulled away more slowly than any measurement of time could tell, (even the silver clock on his wall ticking faithfully away) and Jeff found himself staring into the hugest, bluest eyes. Ever.

He started to raise an eyebrow, while simultaneously squinting (a skill he's come to master over the years. Yeah it sounds impossible, but he's just that talented. They don't call it The Money Maker for nothin', sweetheart.), but considering the blitzkrieg his face had suffered, it didn't really work and he ended up grimacing and making a pained sound similar to "HEeenck."

Annie's eyebrows quirked together and her lips pouted and simultaneously smiled (damn her and her ability to make complex facial expressions!) and she uttered the least-desirable word in this situation ever:

"Aaawwwwwwww!"

Jeff pouted a little and winced a little and died a little inside. He would have glared sternly, but again, ow.

"Are you okay?" she asked in some sort of helium-high kitten voice.

He was about to spew forth a scathing retort, but then she put her hand on his shoulder and the smile turned into an expression of something like real concern and she added with a little sigh, "Poor Jeff."

She was still standing unreasonably close . . . like really really close. Very. Damn her her and her giant eyes and her shiny hair and her really nice-looking lips.

Jeff blurted a breathy, "Yeah."

He managed something that felt vaguely like a frown and eyed her darkly. He let his eyes drag meaningfully from hers to her mouth and back up. Annie took the hint (smart girl) and leaned in again, kissing him softly.

And yes, the lips were just as nice as they looked. Moreso, in fact. Because of the touching.

He palmed her hips and pulled her closer and she knew that was the cue to wrap her arms around his neck and open her mouth for him and, oh yes, this is a  _very_  smart girl.

As Annie curled into his lap and his hands slid against her sides underneath her sweater, Jeff decided that yeah, it had been a long day, and he'd gotten the crap beat out of him, and he was pretty sure his ankle might be broken, but goddamn if this wasn't a great start to winter break.

(Translation: "Y'know what," he said when he'd managed to pry himself away from her mouth for a second, "why don't we just hang out here for a while?"

"Mmhm," Annie murmured against his neck, making her lips buzz along his skin.

Merry Semester indeed.)

  
_


End file.
